Masculine Connections Evolve One Way, Women's Friendships Other. Ought We Halt Efforts to Make Men More Like Women?
It's beneficial to talk. That's what men are constantly told, by everyone from mental health advocates to the women they live with. These women are puzzled by the common male propensity to pass an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet return utterly clueless about the significant events in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that while? Why haven't they inquired how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?
For women, whose own friendships typically revolve around an deep and detailed knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this style of male intimacy—built on seemingly avoiding serious conversation—can seem strangely hollow and unfulfilling. It's no surprise, we think, that over a quarter of UK men report having zero close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many hesitate to see a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, especially, appear permanently frustrated for unspoken reasons. Bottling everything up helps no one.
Reconsidering the Value of Silent Companionship
Yet, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may undervalue the strengths of the resilient and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was studying volunteers at a historic steam railway in the north of England when he was impressed with the bond forged among these mostly older men. His lengthy study has been published as a paper contending that, especially for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the worth of friendships centered on shared activities—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underappreciated.
This quiet model of friendship "is not deficient or anachronistic, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.
Admittedly, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how toddlers play—next to each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's point is evident: just because it's not your preferred version of friendship doesn't mean it lacks value. Maybe we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whichever pursuit allows them to enjoy time in the presence of others who also value less talk.
Past Words: The Unspoken Language of Care
Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that expressing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Instead, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the surface of seemingly reserved friendships. Is he right?
As a woman's perspective, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional observation indicates that while men may be hesitant initially to open up sensitive matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably open. A lack of overt emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling altogether.
Furthermore, while younger men raised in a more expressive culture may be better at articulating feelings, traditional men are not at all incapable of it. Repackage vulnerable emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily express frustration, yearning, disappointment, or pride endlessly.
What is notable about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to express what seems remarkably like concern and affection. When an elderly volunteer was absent and then returned struggling, his friends noticed and were worried. But, as the professor notes, they intentionally didn't ask what was wrong. Rather, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping routine. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the elephant in the room.
The Essential Question: Does Bonding Require Words?
This is not everyone's preferred way of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real beneficial value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and despair—is fundamentally knowing that someone is there enough to be present in life's challenges with you, does that always be put into words?
The debate persists. Perhaps the most constructive approach is to acknowledge that different forms of friendship carry equal value, respectively meeting the emotional needs of different individuals in unique effective way.
